theclues were there, but I couldnât put them together in a way that made sense.
I knew one thing. He wasnât happy to see me.
And whatever he knew about Vic Willing, I wouldnât get it easy.
On his arms he had a series of tattoos, most of them coded references to neighborhoods, housing projects, gang affiliations, and sundry other historical markers, in bold gothic print. One tattoo stood out. It was on the back of his right hand. In fancified, delicate script, it said LALI .
âWhoâs Lali?â I asked.
âNo one,â he said. It was the first time heâd spoken to me: his voice was deep and his accent was heavy. âNo oneâ came out as one short, hostile word:
no-un
.
âNo one,â I repeated. âI got some tattoos like that too.â
He ignored my attempt at a joke. For a split second, I saw something in his face. It was a question, asking for something.
Save me
, it said. Or maybe
Kill me
.
âShe your girlfriend?â I asked.
He looked away again and didnât say anything.
âVic Willing disappeared sometime during the storm,â I said. âIâm trying to find out what happened to him.â Iâd noticed that when people in New Orleans said âthe stormâ they didnât mean the literal storm, which only lasted a few hours. They mean the whole week, the time between when evacuations began and when they ended seven or eight days later.
Andray didnât say anything.
âCan you tell me where you were?â I asked. âDuring the storm?â
âConvention Center,â he mumbled.
âLetâs start earlier than that,â I said. âLetâs start with Friday night. The Friday before the storm. Whatâd you do that Friday night?â
He took a deep breath and sat up a little and looked at me directly for the first time.
âFriday night,â he said. âFriday night was just normal.
Sunday
night, thatâs when it started. We went down to the Superdome.We got out of there
fast
. They didnât want to let no one out, but we found a way.â
â
We
?â I said.
Andray nodded. âMe and Terrell,â he said.
âWhoâs Terrell?â I asked.
Andray looked like he was surprised I didnât know Terrell. It wasnât unreasonable in New Orleans, where everyone knows each other.
âNo one,â Andray said, blinking. âA guy I know. You ainât know him. It was me, him, and Trey. Trey, he gone, so you ainât getting no alibi from him. So then I start looking for my girlfriend, Lali. Ever since the storm she donât want nothing to do with me, but then she was my girlfriend. So I go to this house where sheâs at and I get her. Then, me and Terrell and Lali and Trey, we go looking for my mother.â
âYou find her?â I asked. I hadnât known he still knew his mother. That wasnât in the file.
He shook his head, and came to life, which in this case meant getting angry.
âSo then I went down to the Superdome, to look for her,â Andray went on. âBy then, they had people in the Convention Center too. So we went over there and, you know, that was some fucked-up shit. So me and my friend Peanutâhe dead so donât waste your time looking for himâwe go off and we got a car for everyone to get out of town in. And so me, Terrell, Peanut, Pee Wee, Lali, Peanutâs little sister, her kids, Pee Weeâs girl,
her
kidsâwe all drove out to Houston. Drove right up to the Astrodome, and those mothafuckas turned us down. Said we werenât authorized or some shit like that. But then these other people, they saw us get turned away. And they took us back to their own house, their own house where they lived, and they made us dinner, found us a place to stay, all that. Nelson, was their name. Tom and Mary Nelson. So, you know,â he said, in case I was wondering, âthey got some good people out there
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